[Tim Murphy]

Charlotte, I'll let you know when I am California bound, it won't be long. My first experience of addressing a big audience came when I was twelve. Palm Sunday, the Passion according to St. Matthew, twelve minutes. My dad was chief lector for St. Joseph's, but he had laryngitis, and he could barely croak. So he whispered to the priests, "Let Timmy do it." The following year the priests asked me to do The Long Gospel of St. John at the Good Friday Solemnity, fourteen minutes.

I no longer need the peach crate required to lift a little boy to the microphone. I no longer need the microphone to fill a church with sound. But mics are tricky. It's all a matter of testing them, and having a good auditor, in the old sense, give you the necessary feedback. If you're blowing out the speakers with your plosives, stand back. That's why I am often eighteen inches out. Most women must be within six inches. Fact.

Most important thing, which I overlooked in my previous post, is learn to breathe. Not by the throat, but by your diaphragm. A little yoga will teach you this. If you draw in your breath from your belly, you can go forever, if you breathe through your throat you're gasping in ten seconds. The forever gives you time to cast a glance at the text, prememorize it as it is unscrolling, and nobody in the audience knows how hard you are working.

[Charlotte Innes]

Thank you, Tim, for the stories, the advice, and the promise! Yes, I do know yoga. In fact, I'm about to head for my living rug to do some, since it's pouring with rain here, and so I'm not ready to go walk out in it yet. (Besides, as everyone knows, we don't walk in the rain in California!) But, indeed, yoga has been invaluable to me in all sorts of ways--for breathing and for peace.

At readings, I've learned that the key for me is to read s-l-o-w-ly, as I tend to gabble and stutter otherwise. I've told myself (and others) to savor every word. Not only does that slow me down, but it also helps me read with emotion--and not just automatically read the words off the page. And yes, that gives me time not to lose my place. I also keep a thumb or finger near the lines I'm reading. I have an absolutely terrible memory--although poems I've read aloud a lot, start to stick, and that helps.

By the way, if you are coming to California, give me lots of warning. We're planning for spring readings right now....

Thanks again!
Charlotte

[Tim Murphy]

Stage Fright
i.m. Homero Espaillat

“I gotta take a pill before I read.”
“What the hell are you taking?” “Valium,
so terrified when I perform, I need
to calm myself for fear the Kingdom come.”

“Surely you have a flask. Tell me you have!”
begs a great poet in the parking lot,
paralyzed, bleeding. Palliative salve
pops from my glove box, and he swigs a tot.

“They’re in their underwear and owe you money,
but know you are no hundred dollar bill,”
said Rhina’s father. Let your smile be sunny,
never fall down, however great the thrill

for all who come to hear a poet rage.
There is a sink not far behind the stage.

[Catherine Chandler]

Great advice, Tim. Also, true about reciting slowly and practicing before you do a professional recording. I recited my First Books Panel poems from memory at West Chester (but had been practicing for weeks) and I was happy to be able to make eye contact with so many in the audience. As for mics, I prefer not to use them if possible (didn't use one at the Powwow reading in September), but if I do, you're right about getting there early and testing them out. Thanks for those lively stories, too, Tim. I can just imagine you standing in for your Dad. He must have been proud!

Jesse Anger has offered to record me reading some of my work at his studio next March . My first "professional" recording! I'm really looking forward to it.